


Broken Glass

by newlegacies



Series: Road-trippin' [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, and harry is a prejudiced jerk face who's secretly pining after pansy, and pansy takes none of his shit, i drop the f bomb a little too much i'll admit, so yeah enjoy, the language is a little........ yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newlegacies/pseuds/newlegacies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's standing there with a sheepish smile on his face (that makes her want to break a vase) and says, "I'm sorry about the coffee."</p>
<p>Pansy says nothing. She only inhales deeply and slowly and intensifies her glare.</p>
<p>The guy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a napkin.</p>
<p>"Are you - fucking - kidding me?" she finally spits, holding her arms out as not to touch the dark mess all over her front. "This dress was two hundred dollars, and I just got it a week ago."</p>
<p>The embarrassed grimace on the guy's face slowly morphs into something like disgusted exasperation, and his stare is suddenly cool and indifferent. He shoves the napkin back in his pocket with a controlled movement.</p>
<p>"I'm glad you got your money's worth," he replies scathingly. "Go ask daddy to buy a new one."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Glass

**Author's Note:**

> this was definitely not my best work, but i need it off my chest to do other things and not worry about making it perfect.... but you can bet my ass that i'll be coming back to revise the heck out of this.

Pansy's life sucks.

Her story: She's in this relationship with this great guy, and she hasn't gotten in trouble with the cops for almost a year, and her dad hasn't come home to yell at her yet. For the first time in her life, she feels like everything is finally working out the way she wants it to.

But then just like that, everything is gone. Her boyfriend announces that he's gay, like _really fucking gay_ , especially for this one guy called Seamus Finnigan (who isn't even that hot anyway), and she gets in a tussle with the police when her harmless prank on her greasy, ugly chemistry teacher goes too far, and then her dad comes home just in time to see his daughter in jail. Which ultimately means grounding her to the depths of hell and leaving on another long interval and not coming back until Christmas. And Pansy is pissed off beyond anything she's ever felt before. It's too fucking much to handle.

And Blaise and Astoria decide that they're going to drag her on a road trip to a really remote area of Connecticut where the ground is rocky and uneven and the phone signal flickers on and off, claiming that this is "therapeutic" and that it's also going to help with some other problem of Draco Malfoy's that has to do about his forever alone-ness, which Pansy could definitely not care less about, given her current situation. She wants to sulk all day in her room by herself, eating gourmet ice cream out of the carton and watching crappy romantic comedies and cry her eyes out. And yet she agrees to come anyways, because the recent turn of events has turned her into a spineless loser. (She definitely regrets coming when Theo and Astoria start making out next to her.)

When they finally park at this run down lot, Pansy feels like she's fucking suffocating from her smoking cravings, (which is a bit ironic, she'll admit,) and she practically leaps out of the car and inhales the salt air and starts feeling terrible about herself again - but for some reason it seems okay. Because she's somewhere far away from her problems, and she doesn't have to give a shit. At least, not yet.

Pansy starts lighting up a cigarette. Next to her, Draco excuses himself hurriedly.

: :

Pansy starts off the next day by slamming into a wall.

The "wall" actually turns out to be a human being, and the human being turns out to be a really cute guy with a fantastic shoulder-to-hip ratio wearing a pair of really ancient looking glasses, and the really cute guy turns into someone someone who just spilled scorching hot espresso over her and is staring at her with this horrified look and suddenly she can feel the coffee burning her skin and it hurts like fuck.

She stands there, unable to comprehend thought except for the fact that she literally just bought this dress at Ann Taylor and how the feminine floral design of the fabric is now soaked in dark brown liquid with blobs of whipped cream. She slowly looks up at the guy and hopes that her glare will kill him somehow, no matter how cute he is.

He's standing there with a sheepish smile on his face (that makes her want to break a vase) and says, "I'm sorry about the coffee."

Pansy says nothing. She only inhales deeply and slowly and intensifies her glare.

The guy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a napkin.

"Are you - _fucking_ \- kidding me?" she finally spits, holding her arms out as not to touch the dark mess all over her front. "This dress was two hundred dollars, and I just got it a week ago."

The embarrassed grimace on the guy's face slowly morphs into something like disgusted exasperation, and his stare is suddenly cool and indifferent. He shoves the napkin back in his pocket with a controlled movement.

"I'm glad you got your money's worth," he replies scathingly. "Go ask daddy to buy a new one."

In a split second, the burning heat of the coffee disappears, and she can feel splintered ice pulsing through her veins. Her anger is so cold it's searing, and her voice is chilly with frozen rage when she replies.

"I'm glad you understand how hard it is to live such a posh life. I'll bet you think I have eight personal servants at my house, yes?"

"No, I was actually thinking that you had nine," the guy says with a scoff. His eyes are crackling with disdain as he eyes her, even as he sets down his half-empty coffee cup.

"Seems to me that you have something civilized humans call prejudice," she snaps.

"I think guessing that you're a stuck-up bitch with more money than you can spend isn't an inaccurate form of prejudice," he replies hotly. Pansy can hear in his voice exactly how much he despises her.

_Right back at you_ , she thinks with a scowl.

"I think guessing that you're a dickhead who judges people before you even fucking get to know them isn't an inaccurate form of prejudice either," Pansy retorts. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

She picks up his coffee cup and flings the rest of his espresso at him. She ignores the yelp that follows shortly after and turns on her heel toward the exit without a second glance.

_Good riddance,_ she thinks to herself as she leaves.

: :

The second day, Pansy and Astoria go shopping. They've split from the group to check out some stores and do a little sightseeing - Astoria dragging Theo along with them as well - and it seems like a normal afternoon so far. They're done with shopping and are sitting down on a bench with each a small, paper box of fish and chips balancing precariously on their laps and Astoria and Theo snuggled tight together on the old, wooden seat, a little always from Pansy's spot. The sight makes Pansy's stomach turn; remembering how her boyfriend dumped her.

With a sudden loss of appetite, she sets down her paper box and stands up, wiping off the oil on her hands on a napkin. "I'm going to go check out that thrift shop," she announces to her friends.

"Alright, go ahead," Astoria giggles. "I'll be here with Theo and we'll catch up to you - _babe!_ "

Pansy turns away from the sight of Theo kissing Astoria's neck and breathes deeply, wondering whether she was that annoying when she dated Dean.

: :

When she sets foot in the thrift store, she's greeted with the overwhelmingly foul scent of old shoes and leather. It looks rather like a second-rate Goodwill, with the metal racks of clothing practically spilling out from the ends and wall paint cracking and peeling. There are tubs filled to the brim with aged belts and ratty black converse and the small counter in the back has a small rack of souvenir key chains and tacky beaded necklaces. Pansy wrinkles her nose, but looking at some of the miniskirts, vinyls and high heeled boots, she thinks to herself, This will suffice.

She browses through some of the clothing, picking out clothes that don't smell too bad and don't look like they've been worn in the seventies and as she moves rack by rack she sees some clothes that actually -

Ding.

The door in the front opens and the bell attached to it chimes loudly. Looking up, Pansy can see a pretty redhead wearing a baseball cap backwards.

The person following her is - just Pansy's luck - the guy from yesterday, looking hot as ever, much to Pansy's disappointment (and arousement).

Pansy considers a couple of options; A) to evacuate the premises and find a way never to see him again, or B) to stand her ground.

She's thinking that she'll go with option A, because it's the safest - but at the same time, option B is looking good because it probably means pissing him off with her presence.

Tilting her head up, she makes option B official, and strides in long, bounding steps to the dressing room.

That's when he catches sight of her.

His jaw suddenly tightens, and she can see his hands curl into fists and watch a glare seep into his gaze as he stares at her and all the lacy crop tops she's holding with the purest form of contempt ever, as if he were cursing her for even touching thrift store clothing. And for some reason, it's un-fucking-believably funny.

Pansy wants to savor this moment forever.

She makes sure to flounce right by him and "accidentally" brush by his shoulder, and glides right into the nearer dressing room with the most darkly satisfied feeling she's had in a long time. She hums as she switches into a netted top and a red skater skirt and nearly leaps outside to the mirror, where she knows he'll be watching her.

And she guesses right. The darkness of his gaze pierced right into her as she walks out, and she locks onto his gaze. She can see his eyes darken, and smirks to herself when he stalks over to her side. It's hilarious and feels meanly funny, to rub it in his face that their coffee-spilling encounter wasn't that last he'd see of her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the guy says with an annoyed scowl.

Pansy looks up innocently. "Do I know you?"

The guy's jaw clenches even more.

"Fuck this, okay," he growls. "Why do you shop at thrift stores if you're already filthy rich? You can buy perfectly good clothes at Marc Jacobs or wherever you get clothes."

Her good humor disappears like _that_ , and she whirls around to face the guy. "Because it's cheap here," she says, rolling eyes. "Sweetie, if you can't accept that fact that you're so prejudiced to the point of blindness, don't bother people who don't give two shits about what you think they're like."

"That's interesting, because I don't give two shits either," he retorts. "You keep popping into my life to tell me what I'm doing wrong when I don't want any input."

"First of all," Pansy says, "you definitely give two shits. Second, you don't have any right to judge me when you don't even know my name."

"Your first name is Pansy Parkinson," he replies without a hitch. "Your dad is some successful, phony businessman who owns a couple of nameless companies, and you hang out with a bunch of other self-proclaimed corrupted rich kids who destroy property and steal cars that they could buy with their spare change. You're friends with Draco Malfoy, who did crack and has gone to rehab."

"Do you have bullshit a lot for breakfast? Because you've really eaten this up," Pansy snaps. "That's all lies. We don't commit those crimes. The worst we've done was egg a car and leave a three inch dent into the trunk lid. Also, Draco's one of the most reasonable people I know and even though he gets annoying as fuck he never does anything worse than the average college kid, and hates even the smell of Fun Dip. And he only went to jail covering for this kid Goyle, who we kicked out right after. You really are prejudiced. Go to hell."

At this point, an angry flush is rising from the guy's neck. "I'm leaving now," he says irritably, stepping close to her. "My girlfriend's almost finished checking out."

For some reason, that sentence makes her lose it. Staring at the straight lines of his face, the bright, angry green of his irises, and the mess of dark hair falling in his eyes, she can feel something ignite in her chest.

"Great," she says, freezing her voice into that inhospitable tone, trying to ignore how hot and bothered she is. "Get out of my face."

He stares at her intently for a while, and then the redhead calls, "C'mon, Harry!"

The guy - Harry - swivels away, not before he gives her a hard glare, which she counters with her own black look.

And she doesn't feel anything when he leaves with the girl. Just her pulse thrumming through her wrists so hard that she can feel her skin move with every pump. An annoyingly enough, the vivid green glass of his eyes stays in her head for the rest of the day.

: :

It's the end of the week, and Pansy is glad not to have seen him.

The whole group has decided on extending their stay here because of Draco's new and sudden love interest, who apparently goes to Yale and has been hanging out with him for the past week. Blaise describes Draco's new infatuation as "bordering creepy", and snickers whenever Draco has this faraway lovesick look in his eyes. Personally, Pansy can't stand another second thinking about anyone's love life - she doesn't think she can stand any more seconds in this goddamned town. She tries to convince herself that it's how uninteresting and small this place is, but she knows deep down it's because she wants to get away from that guy Harry.

It's so fucking infuriating that someone so rude can somehow be so hot, and it's not fair that her brain somehow can't let go of that last fact, how hot he is - and it makes her want to scream.

So when they ask her whether she wants to stay or not, she desperately wants to say no.

But she finds herself saying yes instead.

: :

That night Pansy, Astoria and Blaise head off to the local bar.

Draco and the mystery girlfriend are staying in their rundown motel room to watch some old mystery movie that Draco likes, and because Theo is a sucker for mysteries and movies, he's stayed behind to watch with them. Astoria is completely bummed, and Pansy pouts with her, but honestly, she's glad she doesn't have to spend and more time around the couple. Their affection has gotten to the point where Pansy can feel her teeth mold into cavities, and it's almost sickening how many kisses they share within ten minutes. She just wants a night of partying without a care and taking body shots off strangers with her friends.

They arrive at the bar at eight, and already, Astoria has abandoned them, probably to order shots of vodka for all of them, and Blaise is flirting with any girl within a foot of him, leaving Pansy feeling alone and heading toward the opposite of her goal for tonight. Brushing dust off her dress, she saunters to the bar, ready to get a drink for herself.

After a while (she has no concept of time anymore) she's definitely loosened up, and she's laughing with this random guy on the dance floor and holding a bottle of beer and shimmying along with the music. When the song ends, she decides to go check up on Astoria and Blaise, who are seeing who can down more shots.

She weaving through the crowd as best she can (the alcohol has taken over some of her senses) until she bumps into a guy and accidentally spills her beer all over his shirt.

Pansy's not so drunk that she doesn't have decency, and she stumbles back and gasps, "Omigosh! I'm really sorry for spilling my -"

And then, as she looks up, the guy is -

"Oh, fuck no!" she says. "I take back my sorry."

The guy - or Harry, to be more descriptive - scowls down at her. "Real polite, are we?"

"Your sarcasm has no effect on me, as I wasn't trying to be polite in the first place," Pansy bites, "and it's actually called common courtesy."

"It's good to know you actually know what it means."

For some reason, his voice has becoming more halting when he rattles off his disparagement, but they've built up so much that Pansy just snaps.

"Okay, is there a meaning to your insults?" she seethes. "Because this is getting pointless and tiring, and -"

All of a sudden, his lips are on hers, and his mouth tastes like whiskey, and she fucking melts, because his mouth is infused with hers so perfectly and he's gripping her wrists so tightly they're almost numb and pressing her against a wall and her thoughts nearly spiral away. And he's kissing her so roughly, and it's sloppy yet so precise and full of anger and passion, and all she can think of his how it feels like fire - their lips, his hands, her breathing. Everything is fire.

When he finally pulls away, her heart is still thumping wildly, and her breathing is ragged and shallow, and Harry has this crooked grin on his face that's simultaneously cute and hot at the same time - no, scratch that, it's just hot, hot as hell - and suddenly something occurs to her -

Pansy roughly shoves him away from her, scowling. "What the fuck was that?" she exclaims angrily.

Harry blinks, then starts sheepishly: "Do you still hate me for being a dick? Because I was being really prejudiced -"

"No, you have a girlfriend, remember, you fucker!?" Pansy retorts, then flounders when she realizes what he said. "Oh... wait. That too."

"Oh yeah," Harry says, and suddenly the air between them is thick with awkwardness. "I, um, she's not my girlfriend. Ginny's not my girlfriend. I mean, we dated for a long time but it just turned into something platonic, and -"

"Wait," Pansy interrupts, the alcohol making her words and thoughts sluggish and blurred. "You told me she was your girlfriend... You were trying to get me jealous?"

Even though she's tipsy, admittance shows through on his face and it's almost glaringly obvious how right she is.

And maybe it's the alcohol or maybe the adrenaline still egging her on from the last kiss, because out of impulse, Pansy pulls him close to her and kisses him again. And the feeling is back - that fire.

In the middle of their make out session, Harry detaches his mouth from hers and mumbles against her lips: "You know, you just spilled beer all over my favorite shirt."

"Consider it a Thank You for ruining my dress permanently," she murmurs back, and messily reconnects their lips again with a smirk.


End file.
